Last Song of the Elf Daughter
by anunexpectedgathering
Summary: Ellethen is a half breed. Born of an Elven father and Dwarven mother, she lived in the dwarf kingdom of Erebor for the first eight years of her life before her banishment. One hundred and eighty three years later, she joins the company of Thorin Oakenshield on their quest to reclaim the Lonely Mountain. Sparks fly and swords blaze between the two as the journey progresses...
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

The King's guard was in her house, though she did not know why, just that they were demanding to see her ears. Her mother was being restrained so all she could do was watch as they lifted her, a small child of eight years, onto the table and lifted her long thick hair away from her ears.

"So it is true," the dwarf warrior whispered under his breath so that only she could hear.

"Ellethen! Please, good sir, we have committed no crime!" her mother cried, fighting against the arms holding her back.

"This child's very existence is a crime." The look he gave the child then was filled with disgust as he lifted her from the table and carried her off, away from her mother and out the door. She fought against him with all her strength, trying to reach out, calling to her mother, to anyone.

"Stop your squealing, you filthy half breed." He jerked her roughly before handing her to one of his men.

That's when the tears started. "Momma, don't let them take me! I don't want to go, momma!"

"The king will punish them as he sees fit. Take them to him."

"That won't be necessary," a voice called from the gathering crowd. An older dwarf that she recognized as Thror's son, Thrain, approached. Her heart lifted when, behind him, she saw the young prince Thorin looking on. Even at the age of 12, he was everything a prince should be, brave, loyal and kind. He would surely stop this; he was her prince, so he had to. She looked to him, even called to him, pleading for him to look her way, to gaze upon her with those brilliant grey eyes that were so uncommon among dwarves. When they finally fell on her, she searched for some sign of understanding in them, something that told her he would fix everything. But there was nothing, only the curiosity and confusion that all children carried in them. And he turned his eyes back to his father, never giving Ellethen a second though.

The soldier carrying her released his grip and she fell to the ground hard. She fought back tears of pain, though she swore she would not let them break her. She would be brave, and this would pass.

"My Lord, this child is a-"

"I have heard enough of what she is, I would like to see for myself," Thrain knelt down and held out his hand, "To me, child."

Still fighting tears, she walked to him tentatively, stopping in front of his outstretched hand, but never taking it. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the prince's eyes on her again.

Thrain reached up to sweep her hair away from her ear. "Such a lovely child…so fair…beautiful. It would be such a shame…" His eyes widened when he gazed upon them. She knew then that there was nothing to be done. An anger suddenly filled her such as she'd never felt before, and she pushed his hand away before turning and running back towards her mother. She didn't get far before two of the dwarf guards had their hands on her again. She screamed for her mother, kicked them and bit them, but they would not relinquish their hold on her.

Her cries struck a chord in her mother, and she took the opportunity to unsheathe one of the swords from the guards surrounding her and start swinging. She was able to bring down two of the armed guards before an arrow went through her belly, another in her chest. Her eyes went to her daughter on last time before losing all life and she was able to sound out one last thing. "Run, my beautiful girl, I love you." Then the light that Ellethen loved, the light she'd looked to for guidance and strength was vanquished. Darkness filled her, and she ran. Only once did she fall, in front of the prince, and she looked up at him one last time, dared to reach out to him, but his eyes were filled with the same disgust as the guard and he backed away from her, taking the hand of the man beside him, an older dwarf she knew to be Balin. And then he was gone, disappeared into the panicked crowd. so she kept running. She had no idea how she'd managed to escape so many guards, or how she ended up in the back of the merchant's cart on his way to Dale, but she made it, alone. And as she sat, covered, among the silks and other trade goods, she let the tears spill over, and she cried her heart out to no one, left with nothing but a shattered dream of a prince who would never come.

She lived on her own for a year, making her own way through stealing and travelling. Whatever food she found or stole, she rationed, but more often than not, even that was not enough to keep her from going hungry. She'd managed to steal a blade from a blacksmith in Dale before she left, though she did not know how to use it. She slept in trees and corners of abandoned buildings, whenever she could find them. Often times, when she came upon a fortress, she would imagine herself a princess, able to smite those who opposed her and protect the ones she loved. She dreamed that her mother was still with her, that a handsome prince with striking grey eyes would sweep her off her feet and marry her, and then she wouldn't ever have to worry about starving or hiding or outrunning orc packs again. But of course, when the dream was done, when she inevitably woke, she was alone. Days and nights passed, and the dream slipped further and further away until it was all but forgotten to her, and all that remained of it was the bitter feeling of anger, betrayal and heartache she'd felt that day. Crying herself to sleep became the only way she could fall asleep. Her dreams grew dark and terrifying, and she blamed herself more and more for what had happened to her mother. One night she took the blade to the tip of her ear and sliced at it until she could no longer bear the pain, trying with desperation to rid herself of the difference in her that had caused everything to go so wrong.

Being smaller than regular children, few ever paid her any heed until one day, quite by chance, she encountered a fellow wanderer in the woods...

It was on a particularly sunny day when she was making her usual trip down from her hideout to one of the towns when she came upon him. The cart was coming down the road, a big brown horse at the front. All she could see of the man was a long grey cloak covering him from head to feet, and the gigantic grey hat shielding his face- with the exception of his long grey beard- from her. Curiosity got the better of her as she tried to get a good look at the strange fellow, and she slipped, proceeding to slide noisily down the hill. The man stopped his cart and looked out into the woods. Ellethen stood up as quietly as she could and slid behind a tree, out of sight.

"You there!" his voice was gruff, but not hostile. Still, she dared not move.

"Are you lost? Injured? Speak, quickly now, for the wild is a dangerous place to be wandering alone."

She braved a peek around the tree, and his eyes instantly fell upon her. She was not very far away from him now, so she could see the wrinkles in his kind, worn face. His bright blue eyes spoke of years of adventures and long journeys.

"Just a child," the old man muttered quietly, "My dear, what on earth are you doing in this forest? You can come out, I am quite harmless."

She sidled out tentatively from behind the tree. "My name is Ellethen."

"Ellethen, I am Gandalf the Grey, the Wandering Wizard."

She took a few steps toward him, her interest piqued.

"Where do you come from, my child?" he asked.

"I come from Erebor. I ran away." She stood in front of him now, barely reaching his knee.

He kneeled down to look at her more directly. "And what about your mother? Don't you think she worries about you?"

No one she'd spoken to since that day had ever asked her about her mother until now. The reminder brought tears to her eyes. "No, they killed her, and they chased me away. I won't go back, please don't take me back. I'll run, I'll keep running."

Gandalf took one of her small hands in his, "No no, I won't take you back, worry not. But would you let run with you?"

She looked at him then and nodded, wiping at the escaping tears with her free hand. The old wizard smiled warmly as he took off his hat and placed it on her head. "Where are we going to go?" she asked.

He took a moment to think, muttering to himself quietly before speaking again. "Ellethen, would you like to go see the elves?"

She nodded eagerly, smiling despite herself. She'd heard about elves from her mother's stories, but had never actually seen any. Her father had been an elf, that much she knew, but her mother had always told her never to speak of that to anyone.

"Then onward to Rivendell!" He lifted her onto the cart and climbed in beside her. After a while, she climbed into the back of the cart, surrounded by what he said were fireworks, curled up with the cloak the wizard had given her, and fell into a dreamless sleep.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

(183 years later)

The lack of game on this particularly lovely night was rather disappointing. Why had she decided to go out, she didn't even like hunting. Boredom and exhaustion taking over, Ellethen grabbed a branch that had fallen from a nearby oak tree, sat down in a nook and began to peel and chip away at it with her carving knife. Only moments later she heard trees crashing and crunching in the distance. Something big, it sounded like, was making its way through the forest. Standing up, she walked cautiously in the direction of the sounds. Nothing prepared her for the beast that crashed through the brush in front of her.

Brutish creatures, trolls, and none too bright either. She rolled quickly to the side, covering her head as he stomped through the trees, but the ponies he held under his arms apparently demanded more of his attention than a scrawny half-elf. When the sound of his footsteps receded, she stood up and ran, weaving through branches and roots. Who knew how many more of them there were, since trolls didn't often travel alone, and she didn't think she could survive a multi-troll attack. Although, she did have to admit that their presence this far south was disconcerting.

Taking a moment to catch her breath, she looked to the skies, maybe the stars held an easy message tonight, but to no avail, her skill was in crafting and fighting, not in "fortune telling", as she preferred to call it. All of a sudden, she heard the sound of panicked horses nearby, most likely a group of travelers stopped to rest for the night. She reckoned that was where the trolls had found their meal. The trees started to crack and strain in the direction of the sounds, then turned and fled back in the direction the first troll had gone in; it was as good an indication as any that she'd better start running again. Who knew how many more of them there were? She took off toward the sound of the horses. If there were men out there, they had to be warned. Through branch and bush she darted, fast as her strong short legs could carry her. A dark shape suddenly stopped directly in her path and she barreled straight into it, toppling over. Grunts of pain followed as she attempted to free herself from whomever or whatever she'd landed on so roughly. When she looked down at the face of her interceptor, her gaze was met by a pair of dark eyes, the man's face rugged with a somewhat scruffy look, but there was something rather lovely about it. His long hair, as dark as his eyes, fell to about his shoulders. He was very young too, that much she could tell.

"Well, hello," she greeted, eyebrow raised and a slight smile on her face.

"Hi." His lips spread into a friendly smile.

She lingered a moment longer than was necessary before climbing off of him, an unfamiliar hand helping her to her feet. When she stood and realized that they were barely taller than she was, that was when it hit. Dwarves…two of them. The other was golden-haired with blue eyes, and every bit as handsome, though this one had a more regal look to him. He reminded her of a lion. Nonetheless, these were strange happenings for these parts, dwarves and trolls in one day…

There was one other with them, though it took her a bit longer to notice him. She'd come across these types of creatures only once in her travels. Hobbits, she knew them to be called; they were a simple people with large furry feet and curly hair who so very rarely ventured beyond the borders of their own lands, so what was one doing all the way out here, and with a company of dwarves, no less? This day couldn't possibly get any stranger, she thought to herself. The odd, bare-footed little man carried two full bowls of soup in his hands, but no weapon at his belt. His dwarf companions, however, she could see, were armed to the bone.

"Who are you?" she asked, keeping a hand on her blade just in case.

"Fili, my lady," said the golden-haired one, politely.

"And Kili," blurted the other eagerly.

"And Bilbo Baggins," the hobbit chimed in.

"Ellethen." Then she finally remembered the whole reason why she'd run like mad over here, the fall had apparently almost knocked it out of her. "It's really very nice to meet you all, but so far there are three trolls living in these woods, so you'd best get out of here."

"Trolls? But the ponies…" Bilbo sounded genuinely concerned, "Shouldn't we do something?"

Kili turned to him. "Yes, yes, Bilbo you should!"

"Me? No, no-"

"There's nothing to do about them now, you'll only get yourselves killed," she tried to interject.

"You're our burglar. They're so big and you're so small, they'll never see you coming," Fili continued.

"Burglar?" Ellethen was perplexed, she'd never heard the word burglar used to describe a hobbit before, and this one looked less deserving than most of that title. Still clutching the soup bowls, he followed the two dwarves into the forest. She rolled her eyes, left with no choice but to follow. They stopped a hundred feet away from trolls' clearing. Fili and Kili took the bowls from Bilbo and urged him on towards the not so distant troll fire.

"I'll go around, try and distract them if it comes to that," she said. These dwarves would be the death of her, she was certain. "As if dwarves haven't caused me enough grief already," she muttered to herself as she pushed through the trees toward the trolls' camp.

"We'll be right behind you," Kili said to Bilbo, reassuringly.

"If you run into trouble, hoot twice like a brown owl and once like a screech owl," Fili added.

Bilbo took a moment to process this last confusing instruction in his mind; a moment too long because when he turned back for clarification, the two dwarves had already gone, leaving the poor hobbit quite on his own. Still, he seemed to be able to gather his nerves and press on through the darkness toward the light ahead.

Staying as close as she could to Bilbo while also being able to keep an eye on the trolls, Ellethen watched as he stepped soundlessly through the trees and around the clearing to where the trolls kept the ponies. They'd apparently managed to tie up a makeshift carrel for them in the corner of the clearing. Bilbo tried to loosen the ropes but they were bound too tightly. It was then that he spotted the blade at the troll's hip. He knew he was crazy to even attempt it, but something had to be done. Still, with all his newfound- though uncomfortable- courage, his hands shook terribly and he found every step toward the troll to be heavier and harder than the last.

Ellethen could see him approach, but she could also see Will the troll turning to look in his direction simultaneously. She didn't have time to run to him, or throw him a weapon. Within the span of a second, she acted on instinct. Bringing her bow up from its place across her back, she notched an arrow, and fired straight at the unsuspecting creature. It struck true, straight into his right shoulder, causing him to pivot away from Bilbo. A piercing yowl of pain went up, which seemed to echo through the trees. She hoped that the sound would be enough to warn the others in their party of the danger, if Fili and Kili hadn't already done so. She brought her attention back to the injured troll, who had managed to pull the arrow out. The other two were examining the area around them thoroughly, glancing through the trees in her direction. Thankfully, Bilbo had managed to slink back out of sight.

"Who's there?" one of them yelled.

It was probably a stupid idea, but she had to do something. Hidden behind one of the trees, she cleared her throat loudly and spoke. "You give me your names, and I shall return the favour."

A moment of silence followed as she guessed they were trying to pinpoint where the voice had come from. When she heard a loud shuffling near her, she took the opportunity to switch trees, this time climbing up into the branches quietly. At the moment, she was glad she'd worn such dark colours.

Just then one of them spoke, "I'm William, and this here's Bert and-" William stopped mid-sentence as Bert grabbed his nose, squeezed and let go leaving him squealing and whimpering in pain.

"Food is not supposed to talk, William." Bert turned back to the trees, "So wha're you then?"

"I'm…a…uh…gribble! Something you've never tasted before in your life. I don't think you'd like me, no. Much too bitter." _Hurry up, blasted hobbit!_ She wouldn't be able to keep up this charade for long. They would find her sooner rather than later.

"No 'arm in tryin'," said Tom.

"Maybe it's an acquired taste," Bert said. They seemed to have decided on a direction and were getting ready to charge.

She wouldn't have enough time to move, and if she did they would spot her instantly. It was then she saw Bilbo sneak forward again towards the back of the troll. "Just a quick question, uh…" she said. _Keep their thoughts busy, maybe…?_

"Yeah, wha'?"

A thought came to her then, the first one she could catch, though it may not have been the brightest one, nor the safest. "Are you stupid? Or is today a special occasion?"

"Wha' d'you say?"

"I mean, it seems to me that a half-wit gave you a piece of his mind, and you held on to it."

She assumed they'd understood the last part because they did not look pleased. With a roar of anger, Bert and Tom charged the line of trees, causing a chain reaction as they toppled over one by one. Ellethen was barely able to squeeze out before they flattened her, but not without injury; her ankle had gotten caught between two trees and twisted terribly as she'd freed herself. Pain ran up her leg inside and out. It felt as if the bark had scraped some of the skin off the side of her leg too. The fabric was torn and stained red. Just as well, she was now in the sight of three very upset trolls.


	3. Chapter 2

Ellethen managed to stifle her cries of pain as Bert the troll dangled her upside down from her injured leg.

"Tie it up, we can have it for dessert," Tom suggested.

"Or we could just eat it now, nothing wrong with raw," William chimed in.

She pulled a dagger from its sheath at her waist and using all the strength she could muster, reached up and stabbed the troll's hand. With a loud cry, his grip loosened and she fell hard to the ground. Before she could get up and try to run, Bert stepped on her with his huge foot, pinning her down. Again she tried to maneuver the dagger and stab him, but she was face-down and in too awkward a position to reach him.

"Try ter stab me, will ye," Bert said to her.

All of a sudden, William shrieked. "Look what's come out o' me 'ooter!" The other two dwarves stopped immediately to look.

Ellethen managed to turn just enough to see what the commotion was about, and breathed a sigh of exasperation when she saw Bilbo in his hand, absolutely covered in troll bogies. William seemed terribly uncomfortable with the idea that something living could have come out of his nose; he dropped Bilbo. The pressure on Ellethen's back eased off as Bert's curiosity for Bilbo apparently outweighed his anger at her. The most she could do, however, was slide back against a tree and clutch her wounded leg. She thought of calling out to Serin; maybe she was hunting nearby. The passing thought diminished as the trolls went after Bilbo. They began to circle him, asking him questions about who he was and where he came from. She could see the fear in his eyes, shining bright in the firelight as he answered their questions.

"I'm a burglar- uh-um, hobbit."

"A burglarobbit?" William repeated, confused.

"Can we cook 'im?" Tom asked.

"We can try," William replied, all confusion forgotten. Then they lunged at him; he was quick and small, so he slid easily between their legs and around their grabbing hands, trying to get away. It wasn't long before they caught him and were dangling him upside down as they'd done to her.

"Are there any more of you little fella's out there hidin' where you shouldn't?" Bert asked. Bilbo shook his head in response and gave a little yip that sounded vaguely like the word no.

"He's lying," William suggested. "Hang his toes over the fire. Make him squeal." Bilbo started to wriggle around as they moved him toward the flames, but to no avail.

Sooner or later, she knew they would remember her as well. Why not sooner rather than later? Gripping her knife by the blade, she summoned whatever strength she had left and threw the knife at an unsuspecting Tom, knowing it would be more of a distraction than anything. It flew straight and true, though not as far or strong as she'd have hoped. Nontheless, it struck his thigh, creating a huge gash in his thick flesh.

With a yelp, he rounded on her, "YOU STOP THAT!" and picked her up by the neck. Her breath was cut short as his grip tightened around her throat. She clawed at his skin, fighting for air. "I'll squash ya ter jelly. Or better yet, I'll break your flimsy little neck and suck the marrow from your bones bit by bit."

Stars shone bright before her eyes, colourful and blinding. Her limbs went numb and she stopped fighting. _Please let it end soon…_ she thought to herself. But it didn't. The troll's grip on her loosened just enough so she could draw in a big long breath.

Though she could not see who had stopped him, she could hear the familiar voice that belonged to them. "I said, drop them!" _Stupid arse, took you long enough!_

A mass of shouts sounded all around as more dwarves burst into the clearing, or at least she assumed it was the dwarves. One of them hit Tom hard in the knee and he doubled over, but not before throwing Ellethen nearly halfway across the clearing. She collapsed into a fit of rough coughs and desperate gasping as the fighting ensued around her. Axes and swords were swinging, the trolls grabbing at their attackers and throwing punches, but they were outnumbered. At one point she heard the retreat of horse hooves. The hobbit had finally managed to free the ponies.

Ellethen tried to get up, but the coughing got her again. Her lungs felt as if they were on fire, and every breath seemed more painful than the last. She didn't even notice the small hands pulling her back away from the commotion. The stars had faded by then, and she saw Bilbo standing over her, a look of the sincerest concern on his round little face. Behind him, she could see the battle, but more importantly, she saw Bert coming toward them in a fiery rage, his eyes fixed on the Halfling.

She tried to shout a warning, but the words wouldn't leave her lips. She reached for his hands, but he was ripped off his feet and away from her before she could get a grip on him. Again she found herself being lifted off the ground, this time by William. She watched as Tom and Bert held Bilbo up before the dwarves by his arms and legs.

"Lay down your arms, or we'll rip his off."

They had no choice but to comply.

By the time the trolls had stripped each of the dwarves (there were thirteen in total, she counted) of their weapons and armor and wrapped them in dirty potato sacks, Ellethen had regained much of her strength. She was able to breathe easily again- though not without an irritating pain at the back of her throat- and even her leg felt somewhat better, though it still stung something fierce. She could not move, though, since she was also bound and tossed in among the potato sack dwarves. The few that lay closest to her she did not recognize, save the young one, Kili, and they were all too involved in their own whispers to each other to bother with her. The trolls had taken a handful of the others and wrapped them on the spit over the fire to cook rotisserie style. They were now discussing spices and arguing over the cooking method.

"Why don't we just sit on 'em and squash 'em into jelly?" William asked.

"They should be sautéed and grilled with a sprinkle of sage," Bert stated, turning the spit.

"Well, do it fast. It's nearly dawn. I don't fancy being turned to stone," Tom said.

Ellethen had forgotten about the morning; dawn couldn't be more than an hour or so away.

"Wait! You're making a terrible mistake!" Bilbo suddenly yelled as loud as he could, managing to draw the trolls' attentions away from the rotisserie dwarves.

"Bilbo, you can't reason with them!" one of the dwarves on the spit cried out, "They're halfwits!"

The hobbit struggled to his feet and hopped toward them in his bag. "No, I meant about the seasoning."

Bert leaned towards him, "What about the seasoning?"

"Well, have you smelt them? You'll need something a lot stronger than sage before you plate this lot up."

Outraged cries erupted from the dwarves, calling him "traitor" and "coward".

"Oh, come on, what do you know about cookin' dwarf?" Tom asked, taking Bert's place at the spit, and continuing to turn it.

"No, hold on. Let the flublubruhobbit talk," Bert interrupted, kneeling down to Bilbo's level.

"Well, the secret to cooking dwarf is um…" She could see now that he was struggling to find something that would keep them distracted.

"Yes? What is it? Tell us the secret!"

The frustration was written plain and clear on his face as he spoke to them, "Yes, yes, I'm telling you the secret. The secret is to….um…skin them first!"

This brought on even louder shouts of disbelief from the dwarves.

"Get me a filleting knife," Bert called over his shoulder to William.

"What a load of rubbish," Tom interrupted, "I've eaten plenty with their skins on. Beards, boots and all!"

A movement through the trees caught her eye, Bilbo's as well. The dwarves apparently remained ignorant, given that they were still shouting insults at the hobbit.

"He's right," William stated, "Nothing wrong with a bit of raw dwarf." He approached the pile and picked up one of the dwarves from the bottom end, what looked to be the largest of the bunch too. The poor dwarf's thick braided beard dangled down as William held him up above his head, mouth open, tongue out, ready to swallow.

"No! Not that one! He's infected! He's got worms in his…tubes!"

William let out a sound of utter disgust as he immediately dropped the dwarf back into the pile.

"In fact, they all have! They're infested with parasites! I wouldn't risk it, I really wouldn't."

Ellethen couldn't help but smile. This Halfling was proving to be an impressive and clever sort.

Unfortunately, the dwarves still didn't seem to understand Bilbo's strategy. "What? We don't have parasites! You've got parasites!" She recognized Kili's voice above the rest of the furious dwarves and rolled her eyes. From underneath the pile she felt a hard kick and they all went silent for a second before continuing on a different tangent.

"I've got parasites as big as my arm!"

"Mine are the biggest parasites, I've got huge parasites!"

"We're riddled with them, we really are!"

"So what would you have us do then?" It was Tom who approached Bilbo this time. "Let 'em all go?"

"Well…" the hobbit tilted his head contemplatively.

"Don' think I don' know what you're up to! This little ferret is takin' us for fools!" He went back to the spit.

Well, it was worth a try.

"THE DAWN WILL TAKE YOU ALL!" A deep voice sounded loudly, echoing all around the clearing. Ellethen's heart lurched as a familiar tall figure clad in grey stepped out onto the boulder behind the trolls. The sky had begun to brighten behind it. The figure lifted his long staff and brought it down with a crunch against the huge boulder, cracking it right in half. Sunlight spilled into the clearing, falling on the trolls, who started to convulse violently. They attempted to cover their faces with their hands to fight back the blinding light of dawn, but it had already begun to do its work on them. Before long they were frozen in place, having become nothing more than statues. Cheers erupted from the dwarf company, and from Bilbo, who seemed rather pleased with himself and altogether shocked at the same time.

Gandalf climbed down from the boulder to help them out of their sacks. Bilbo was the first to be free, and he instantly ran over to Ellethen, loosening the tie at her neck and pulling off the dirty bag.

"Sorry it took so long," he stated.

"Ah, don't worry," She ruffled his hair, "Thank you, my heroic hobbit." That made him smile.

"You're hurt."

"It'll heal." The gash in her leg was still bleeding, the fabric around it drenched in red, and she was still bombarded by sharp stabs of pain when she tried to move it.

"Ellethen?" A huge grin spread across Gandalf's face when his gaze finally landed on her.

"Gandalf!" She smiled brightly, as a small child would to a parent.

"What happened?" He knelt down to inspect the injury. A few of the other freed dwarves had gathered around, curious of the newcomer.

"A tree landed on me. Twisted it and cut me open."

"You always did have a knack for hurting yourself…"

"It has to be braced." A taller dwarf in dark blue armor and fur approached and knelt down beside Gandalf, taking her leg. "And covered to stop the bleeding." He looked up at her, meeting her gaze with those bright eyes she'd seen over and over again in her mind since that day, haunting her dreams almost every night. An uncontrolled anger filled her, mixed with a rush of fear and uncertainty. She could see it happening again in her mind. She was there, watching her mother fall to the ground, the life leaving her eyes. Her world ripped apart in a single moment. She remembered the look of contempt he'd given her, this prince she'd once adored; now all that was left in her for him was a terrible memory and a loathing she'd sworn never to relinquish. In less than a second, she was out of his reach, her back against a tree, but as far away from him and his stormy eyes as she could get at the moment, though she did not look away. Her heart beat so fast she thought it would burst out of her chest at any moment. There was nothing else, nobody else but him in that moment. The dagger in her hand shook uncontrollably, but her voice was strong and sure when she finally found it.


End file.
